


Friday The 14th (Yes This Is A Five Month Late Valentine's Day Fic)

by gray_zelle



Series: Love And Squalezkaban: Collection #1 [8]
Category: A Series Of Unfortunate Events (Netflix)
Genre: Definitely!!!, F/F, gray-zelle squaleszkaban, my favourite band of coworkers is definitely esme's goldfinch financial coworkers, squaleszkaban, squalezkaban
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25200688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_zelle/pseuds/gray_zelle
Summary: Olivia, Jacquelyn and Esmé make it through their first Valentine's Day and Valentine's Night together.Also introductions to some original characters - coworkers from Bookall Library, Mulctuary Money Management and Goldfinch Financial (!)
Relationships: Jacquelyn Scieszka/Esmé Squalor, Olivia Caliban/Esmé Squalor, Olivia Caliban/Jacquelyn Scieszka, Olivia Caliban/Jacquelyn Scieszka/Esmé Squalor
Series: Love And Squalezkaban: Collection #1 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592197
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. Valentine's Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LemonsandRosemary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonsandRosemary/gifts), [msariadneoliver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msariadneoliver/gifts), [kitsnicketts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitsnicketts/gifts).



> \- mild sex references  
> \- Jacquelyn says fuck at one point or two  
> \- mild descriptions of violence involving arrows because well. Valentine's Day
> 
> this is also dedicated to olivia-caliban and oliviacalibans on tumblr!!

Valentine’s Day was finally here - on the year’s calendar, across the City, and on Olivia, Jacquelyn and Esmé’s minds. Though I’m quite sure the three lived in a time where consumerism hadn’t rained Valentine’s Day on everything in existence, making it inescapable. So they had that going for them. Yes, their version of Valentine’s Day was tamer, much cheaper, and in a sense, more meaningful.

Well, one would  _ hope  _ it would be. 

They began this Valentine’s Day - so far back in time, it wasn't a horror movie for single or not-straight people, or clueless straight couples - early. Because the real horror here was that they were all needed at work.

“What if,” Esmé murmured into her pillow, “I want to spend my first Valentine’s Day worth living through with both my girlfriends? Have our bosses thought of that?”

“I doubt it,” Jacquelyn said, playing with Olivia’s hair. (Esmé’s was too far to reach.)

“We should call in sick. Right now. I’ll go first, so you can mimic the voice I use; then we’ll sound like we’ve caught the same thing.”

Lazing between her girlfriends, Olivia heaved a dreamy sigh. (They were both rubbing their hands over her arms.) “I’ll go to work today. I don’t mind. I mean, Valentine’s Day is a good idea, but, to a point. And I don’t…” She gave a quiet yawn. “Really see the point in it.” 

Esmé stopped rubbing. “But, darling, it’s all about love. And you  _ love  _ love. And us of course.” 

Now caressing Esmé’s thigh, Jacquelyn said, “I can see Olivia’s point. Babe, you don’t see a point ‘cause love should be important  _ every  _ day of the year, right?”

Olivia, eyes closed, nodded.

“But  _ I  _ don’t see any of  _ your  _ points,” Esmé stated. “So what are you implying? That we don’t do anything for Valentine’s Day?” 

Olivia and Jacquelyn exchanged glances. They nodded, leaving Esmé slackjawed.

“ _ But- _ ” 

“Aside from our dinner reservation, since that’s a weekendly thing now,” Jacquelyn said. 

“And food,” Olivia added. 

“But aside from that,  _ nothing _ ?” 

“...No, babe. Nothing.” 

“No presents, no treats, no little candy hearts,” Olivia added, sounding like she was regretting this agreement.

But now, they’d agreed on it. Their take on a spit-shake was a  _ much  _ more civilised practice: a quick kiss on each other’s cheeks. 

And that was that. 

Well, of course it wasn’t - not when all three of them had plotted to spoil their girlfriends. How could they not?


	2. Olivia's Day At Bookall Library

Bookall Library was unusually quiet for a Friday. Olivia was used to being run off her feet with people chasing books for the weekend, or trudging in after a librarian navigated the Outstanding Books call list. (And sometimes weren’t polite with their calls, which Olivia deemed more than fair in many cases.)

But today Olivia could count Bookall’s visitors on her fingertips. And her gold painted fingernails.

“Who did your nails, dear?” Elderly Mrs Haller asked when she came in. “They’re lovely. Is the artist open on Tuesdays?” 

“Oh, my girlfriend did them,” she replied, trying not to blush. She didn’t mention Esmé had painted them to, say, calm herself, after finding (and burning) a teddy bear Jerome once gave her.

“I wish she had a salon. Tell her I love her work.”

Even Olivia’s coworker Judith, puffy-eyed but apparently fine to work, commented on her nails. Before she locked herself in the bathroom, sobbing over her cheating husband. And this probably sounded  _ horrible _ , but Olivia had no desire to comfort her. Not when, first of all, she’d sensed this coming and had repeatedly warned her. And second, when she’d subtly critiqued Olivia’s own relationship before. Judith could swim in her tears, for all Olivia cared.

“That guy looked like her ex, didn’t he? Should I have served him?” Olivia was asked- “Olivia, what are you doing?” 

She looked up to Bookall’s youngest librarian - and the only other librarian working today - leaning on the customer side of their front counter and desk. Olivia was allowed to call her Tildie. She was only in her 20’s, and though she was now used to Bookall’s underlying strangeness, stranger things threw her for a loop.

Olivia guessed this was one such strange thing.

“Baking, of course.” 

Olivia was at the counter’s frontmost chair, viciously beating melted butter and crushed biscuits together. Tildie watched from above. Olivia wished she’d taken the risk and brought the electric beater with her, when she lugged all these ingredients and utensils into work yesterday. 

“But, Olivia, we don’t have an oven.” 

“We have a fridge; this is a no-bake cheesecake. A chocolate one.”

“Cheesecake?” Then the penny dropped, and Tildie added, “And it’s not for us.” 

“But I  _ did  _ bring some candy hearts and sugar cookies I baked-” Olivia chuckled when Tildie made for the fridge. “Not now! Later!” 

Tildie went back to watching, tapping her black-painted nails on the counter as Olivia mixed. For now, the entire library was silent, which Olivia didn’t mind for once.

“Apart from the obvious serving visitors and answering phones, can I help, Olivia?” 

“Thank you, Tildie, but just that will be fine. I shouldn’t be long anyway, and with how today’s going, I doubt we’ll have many customers. I sure hope not.”

Hoping threw Olivia in a pit.

Figuratively, of course. Though she wouldn’t have minded falling into a literal pit - or anywhere she could prep the cheesecake in. She had to toss her barely finished project in the fridge when people walked in. 

Visitors came, browsed, and stayed for  _ far  _ too long. An old lady trapped Tildie in a half hour-long conversation. Olivia got stuck with a caller who angrily chastised her for “charging” her for books. Yes, she called a  _ library  _ and said that. Olivia almost ended the call with, “Get struck by an arrow!”.

Things eventually calmed down again. Tildie, now on Olivia’s side of the front desk, wiped her brow. Then she winced. “Was that me? Did I jinx-” 

“No, no, that was me,” Olivia assured her. “Completely my fault. Not yours, Tildie.” 

“Oh, good.” Then, Tildie smirked, Olivia knowing where this was heading. “I don’t think those sugar cookies count as The Apology.” 

(Whenever a Bookall librarian accidentally summoned a horde of visitors, usually with the word “quiet” or commenting on the library’s traffic, they would bring something baked into work to make amends with their coworkers.)

“Don’t you?” 

“I think we should have cupcakes, this time. I’ll make that executive decision. I mean, no one else is here, so... “ she tapped the desk. “Cupcakes.” 

“Okay, Tildie. I’ll make cupcakes, but  _ only  _ for you since you showed up today. And have  _ actually  _ worked.” 

Tildie nodded, definitely happy with that. “It’s not hard to show up. Just do Valentine’s Day stuff after work.” 

“I  _ know _ , right? It’s that simple.” 

“So I take it Jacquelyn and Esmé don’t mind waiting?”

Out of all Olivia’s coworkers, only Tildie knew  _ both  _ her girlfriends' names. And the fact that she had two girlfriends in the first place. Olivia hadn’t exactly told her other coworkers about her polyamorous relationship, and for now she didn’t really want to. It was kind of fun referring to Jacquelyn and Esmé as just “my girlfriend” - and letting everyone realise the same girlfriend who couldn’t stand sports often boxed. Or the girlfriend who wore the one leather jacket everywhere had recently bought an entire wardrobe full of pantsuits. Or that the same British girlfriend was also Canadian.

“They don’t mind at all. And I  _ hope  _ they won’t mind this.” 

Now she  _ finally  _ poured the cheesecake mixture into a bowl, ready to chill in the fridge - for longer than it already had. She left it on a free shelf, bringing her container of almonds to her chair. Tildie eagerly took the pouch of candy hearts from her.

Then, Tildie caught on- “Why would Jacquelyn and Esmé be bothered by your cheesecake? I’d die for a piece of it any day.” 

“You don’t have to die for it, just ask nicely. And… Well.” Olivia sighed, picking up the Outstanding Books call list to finally do some work. “We said no Valentine’s Day gifts. Aside from dinner.” 

“But that’s a weekendly thing now, isn’t it?” 

“And it’s Jacquelyn’s turn to choose the restaurant. Aside from that, we’re meant to be doing nothing. But I couldn’t resist!” 

The library door bells jingled, and Olivia suppressed a sigh, letting Tildie handle it. She looked down the list-

“So nothing at all?” Tildie asked, head towards the door.

“Nothing.” 

“Um, I don’t think this is for Judith.” 

Olivia looked up to find a bouquet, made  _ entirely  _ from chocolate, being set down on the counter.

“Delivery for Olivia Caliban?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tho i don't have a faceclaim for Judith;  
> Tildie's faceclaim is Saoirse Ronan (with Lady Bird-style pink hair even if it's the 70's)


	3. Jacquelyn's Day At Mulcturary Money Management

“Then we might go bowling around 3:35, though my wife  _ did  _ seem interested in a film at Conway Cinema; what was it again? The film about… I think it’s in France? It’s about illicit-” 

Jacquelyn startled herself when she said, “ _ The French Connection _ ?” 

“Didn’t I just say France? I doubt they have trains in France, Jacquelyn.” 

Jacquelyn motioned for Mr Poe to continue, even when doing so might threaten her job. She hadn’t fallen asleep while listening to him drone - at least, not  _ yet.  _ Today might be the day.

Esmé had been twitching in her sleep for half the night; well, more than she usually did. Since she never mentioned it, Olivia hadn’t felt it. Jacquelyn had, and fuck, was tired now. Once Mr Poe left to spend half the day with his wife, she would make a coffee to go with some VFD paperwork.

After perhaps twenty minutes of droning, Mr Poe finally said, “And that’s my plans for Valentine’s Day.” 

“They sound nice, Mr Poe,” Jacquelyn said, making a note to buy more earplugs. 

“Now for my plans for, I think it’s called, Valentine’s  _ Night _ .” 

Jacquelyn would gladly take being struck by an arrow.

“Oh, where are my manners?! What are  _ you  _ doing for Valentine’s Day, Jacquelyn?” 

Jacquelyn didn’t know whether to speak or not.

Mr Poe’s phone rang; he said, “No, dear, I’ll be home in another hour- Well, I’m sure Mr Tamberlane will excuse me, considering today. And considering you!... No,  _ you’re  _ sickly sweet!” 

Jacquelyn tried not to groan out loud. Mr Poe dropped his phone, and got up to retrieve his bowler hat.

“You’ll cover for me, won’t you, Jacquelyn? I’d appreciate it. I know my wife will appreciate it, too; oh, she hopes you and your boyfriend have a happy Valentine’s Day.” 

Jacquelyn would put the arrow there  _ herself _ .

On important and meaningful days like this, Mr Poe usually left his secretary manning the fort. Jacquelyn didn’t mind. She’d grown to stand her boss - let’s not say how long that took - but time without him in the office was time well spent. Especially when VFD matters needed attention.

Being in charge of all the Land Of Districts map surveyed sure was some work. Not always hard, but not always easy, either. An organisation’s enemies and associates, and even its members, could be as uncooperative and unpredictable as each other. Managing them all was often tricky. 

Yet not a catastrophe had happened while Jacquelyn had held this VFD role. (And attached Mulcturary Money Management secretary role.) Her associates and friends liked how she handled things: from paperwork to perils, meetings to meetups, firefighting to fun-having. So, in charge she stayed.

No ordinary person would think Valentine’s Day a threat - aside from single people, loveless straight couples, and not-straight people struck with yearning - but in the secret world within the City? The dramas in and out of VFD, and between all its members, made Jacquelyn want every security measure possible. She already had Jacques Snicket on the prowl in the Snicket Taxi, and her best friends Gustav Sebald and Larry Your-Waiter would be out and about, too. She wondered if anyone else would volunteer an hour or two, and make arrangements for a date night. With a romantic date, a platonic date… really, any kind of date that would keep danger away.

Then the office door opened, and in stormed one of the few MMM employees Jacquelyn had time for. She yanked Mr Poe’s chair from his desk and pushed it in front of Jacquelyn’s, cursing under her breath.

Not looking up, Jacquelyn gently asked, “What now?” 

Winnie (a short and bigger young girl, typist in the copier room, good at domestic science and javelin in high school), simply huffed. “Do I look like a rat to you, Jacquelyn?” 

“You look like a human being.” 

“Apparently I’m a rat. They think I let their lunch secret out.”

_ Fuck _ . “So you’re in trouble? With them, or-” 

“With them.” 

Oh, this was bad. Very bad. Jacquelyn ran a hand over her face, wishing someone would  _ listen  _ to her for once. 

“Winnie, I am so sorry. It’s my fault.” 

Glaring at the desk, Winnie looked up. “How’s it your- Oh. Well, that makes sense, if you ratted them out.”

And Jacquelyn had  _ told  _ Upper Management to say the complaint was from the Orphan Affairs Department. She shouldn’t’ve let her hate for the typists blind her; she should have made sure she got the best damn result possible. Or perhaps she should’ve been mature and responsible… 

Nah, she should’ve been precise and made sure the complaint was properly delivered, all details included and instructions followed.

Esmé wouldn’t be impressed by this - by Jacquelyn slipping up and getting caught out, to be exact. And Olivia wouldn’t be, either. Over not being mature… actually, Olivia might actually agree with her on this one.

“I’ll get this sorted out, okay?” Jacquelyn said, getting up. Winnie blanched when she cracked her knuckles. 

“Look, thanks for the offer, but I can fight my own battles, Jacquelyn. And I don’t really like Salmonella’s food anyway, so more fool them for secretly ordering it. I know it’s like, salmon-themed, but c’mon!  _ Salmonella _ ! It’s in the name!” 

Now, Jacquelyn chuckled - she often did, with Winnie around. “The time Esmé suggested we go there for our weekendly dinner, I had to bribe her into considering somewhere else.” 

The details of the bribe were not safe for work. Winnie didn’t ask about them, probably knowing (Jacquelyn did  _ not  _ discuss her sex life at work, thanks very much.) 

Winnie then asked, “How are Olivia and Esmé? Are you guys doing anything for Valentine’s Day?” 

“I’m organising dinner, and apparently our reservation is good to go.” (Jacquelyn had called to ensure. Three times.) “I’m hoping things aren’t too crazy there tonight.” 

“Well, isn’t Valentine’s Day more about romance than sex or whatever? Surely things’ll be nice there. They have a Valentine’s menu and everything, right?” 

“A five course dinner.” Perfect for tonight.

“ _ Fancy _ . I’ll be kicking the boys’ asses at pool in the Nightingale. Not romantic, but, y’know. Most of the boys are single, so we’ve gotta stick together.” 

Those Valentine’s Days were well and truly behind Jacquelyn, now. Not that she minded - not at all (!). She’d take being with her girlfriends any day, or night, than something she could organise anytime. If everything went to plan, their date for tonight would be-

“Holy  _ fuck _ , Jacquelyn!” Winnie exclaimed, grinning as the door opened. “Talk about flowers!” 

The chocolate bouquet a florist held was huge. Expensive. And somewhat out of line. 

Jacquelyn knew exactly where it came from. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> faceclaim for Winnie is Beanie Feldstein!
> 
> also please note that VFD is very watered down and i guess romanticised in this au because i'm not really worrying about or paying attention to VFD's workings this time around. i just want to write about Olivia Jacquelyn and Esmé being idiots


	4. Esmé's Day At Goldfinch Financial

“And  _ then _ , they said, no, we’re not doing anything for Valentine’s Day this year. Well, there is our five course dinner we’re attending tonight, but that’s meant to be our weekendly dinner. Apart from that?  _ Nothing _ ! No presents, no treats, no little candy hearts. Nothing at all.” 

Esmé heaved a sigh, leaning on her break room desk. She looked to her audience, finding them studying the work on their own desks.

“Are you  _ listening _ ?” 

Maeve, whose hair, wardrobe and soul were all black, looked up. Irritated as usual. “Esmé, did I not just say that all my clients bar my 12:30 have cancelled, and I want to get a shift on here?” (She was… Esmé was  _ sure  _ she was also British.) 

“I’m not having a Valentine’s Day at  _ all _ , and you’re having… How many? Anyway, it’s  _ not  _ fair.” 

“First of all, you’re still going out for dinner; and second, I’m not disclosing my Valentine’s Day plans. I guess it’s not fair on you.” 

Let’s say that Maeve’s love life wasn’t as… fixed as Esmé’s. It was quite flexible. And large. And just… heated passion based. (Not adultery, just an index book  _ full  _ of phone numbers to hook up with.)

“Exactly. It’s  _ not  _ fair- it’s our first Valentine’s Day together, so shouldn’t we ought to make it special?”

“Have you considered you might have an all-night-”

The break room door opened, everyone flinching- it was just Eugene. A strapping and slightly muscly guy close to Esmé and Maeve’s ages; neither of them fancied him, knowing what sat beneath the handsomeness. Not creepiness or dickness or anything. The nicest way I can explain is: he bitched as much as every woman on Floor 6. (Though Esmé was sure he was straight.)

“You failed, didn’t you?” Maeve (his boss) asked.

“Thank you, Maeve, for having  _ so  _ much faith in me. Everyone I bothered talking to is taken or gay.” He took to his break room desk, accepting the folder Maeve handed him. “So Pat’s gonna win the bet, if I don’t find some sucker by 8:00. Unless - is it too far if I ask one of  _ you  _ ladies to be my Valentine?”

Esmé, Maeve, and Esmé’s assistant Sylvie, all stared at him.

“ _ Just  _ for the bet?” he added, wincing. “Not-not seriously.”

The three ladies turned him down.

“Men are Out,” Esmé said. 

“I don’t do boss-assistant shenanigans, even for stupid bets,” Maeve added. 

“No,” was Sylvie’s answer. 

“Sylvie, darling,” Esmé asked, “Have you told Mr Smethurst I’m  _ sick  _ yet?” 

“Onto it now.” She picked up the phone on the break room wall, Esmé sitting at her desk and nodding approvingly.

“He can wait another month to see me, since today’s this important. I am  _ not  _ going home without presents for my girlfriends. I mean, who am I? A stone cold bitch?” 

“You’re  _ the  _ stone cold bitch,” Eugene bit.

“Eugene, I, your  _ boss _ , am right here,” Maeve snapped.

“Fine, fine. Not as stone cold a bitch as Maeve.”

“What will you get them, Esmé?” Sylvie asked. “‘Cause you’d better give me ideas on what to-”

“Oh, no no no- I’ll go. I’m happy to go,” Esmé said. “ _ I  _ will get my girlfriends…” 

Oh, that’s right. Esmé had never celebrated Valentine’s Day before.

“Flowers?” Eugene offered.

Mr Smethurst fell for Sylvie’s professional lie, leaving Esmé with no clients for the rest of the day. It was somewhat ridiculous, how many of Esmé’s clients had cancelled their appointments  _ just  _ for today. It kind of pissed her off, since she’d made the effort to turn up to work herself, even when, for the first time, Valentine’s Day was worth celebrating. 

In the past, Esmé had seen Valentine’s Day the way that green monster (the Grouch?) saw Christmas. It had, in one way to put it, made her want to strike things with arrows.

So as she told Sylvie, on the walk to Florence Florists close to the Banking District, she was a little annoyed by the three’s earlier agreement.

“Is it too much to give a rose or a hundred? Or a chocolate block the size of a handbag? I don’t see what their point is, Sylvie.”

Sylvie, who was young but considerably wise (compared to the rest of her Goldfinch Financial floor), gave a  _ hm  _ as she walked. “I can see your point, but I can also see theirs - like Olivia said, love isn’t restricted to one day, but like you say it’d be nice to receive even a little gift. It’s not like you forgot about today, or, I don’t know, never give your girlfriends presents. I mean, didn’t you give Olivia a library? And Jacquelyn a car?” 

“Yes to the library; then the car’s Jacquelyn’s. We all use it, so I suppose we all own it.”

“But you still give them presents.” Opening the florist door for her boss, she added, “They  _ shouldn’t  _ be upset if you give them a little something.” 

Esmé hoped Sylvie was right. So she pushed her way through the customers clogging Florence Florists, and slapped a  _ wad  _ of bills on the front counter. “Your Innest, most expensive chocolate box? I’ll take two.” 

She carried them back to Goldfinch Financial herself, letting Sylvie manage her handbag. Though the chocolate wasn’t much of a gift - and only cost $250 - having a gift at all gave her a rush of excitement. Even a feeling that told her she was doing this right.

No one was stopping Esmé from spoiling her girlfriends today. Not even her girlfriends themselves.

And when she returned to Goldfinch Financial, and found a chocolate bouquet on her actual desk, she decided her girlfriends would gladly let her get her way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> faceclaims for Esmé's coworkers are:  
> Maeve - Eva Green  
> Sylvie - Kaitlyn Dever (was in Bad Teacher with Lucy Punch)  
> Eugene - Zachary Levi (was in Less Than Perfect with Sara Rue and Patrick Warburton)
> 
> credit for choosing Maeve's name goes to msariadneoliver and credit for choosing Goldfinch (both the business and another oc's surname) goes to olivia-caliban on tumblr!! thank you both!!
> 
> the Goldfinch Financial Floor 6 gang *may* be my favourite set of oc coworkers....


	5. Valentine's Night

“Alright, who was it?” Jacquelyn asked Olivia as she got in the Chev- oh, she had a bouquet  _ too _ . 

Putting hers beside Jacquelyn’s on the back seat, Olivia said, “You got one too? That makes this easier.”

(We all know that wasn’t the case  _ this  _ time.)

When Esmé slid into the Chevelle, almost hitting Olivia with  _ her  _ bouquet, she asked, “So who- oh.”

The girlfriends sat there for a moment, the idling Chevelle grumbling, and eyed the bouquets on the back seat.

“So if I didn’t…” Olivia mused. 

“And I didn’t,” Jacquelyn added. 

“And I didn’t buy  _ myself  _ a bouquet as a cunning decoy,” Esmé finished. 

Then who did?! 

The three decided to not question it. To accept it. Their bouquets became one, in a wide crystalline vase Esmé found; fitting it in the fridge took some work, so it went in the pantry. And for now, they… left that mystery alone.

They had a dinner to get to. 

Olivia’s nail polish inspired their three gold outfits. Olivia wore a cute knee-length dress, with crystals around the high neck. Jacquelyn opted for a long-sleeved top and pants, crystals on her sleeve cuffs and belt. And Esmé’s jumpsuit had crystals running down the neckline that sloped to her stomach. 

They looked like  _ quite  _ the sight. 

Heads turned as they walked through the night, and the City street leading to the restaurant. Esmé, in the middle, held her girlfriends’ forearms tight, sparkling the brightest. Her smile and excitement warmed her girlfriends’ hearts. 

“This is one of  _ the  _ Innest restaurants right now, isn’t it, darling?” she asked Jacquelyn, flicking her curled hair as they walked. 

“Apparently it is. They’re meant to be booked out, if that constitutes Inness.” 

Said restaurant was named Emberance, and from the outside it looked In enough to Olivia and Jacquelyn. As they approached, they saw the light of candles on each table, turned orange by an opaque tint in the windows. The silhouettes of people moseyed around, some waiting on others sitting at tables. People were even lined up outside. 

The three lined up, too (Olivia and Jacquelyn kept Esmé from pushing in). They stood close together, trying to fight off the last of the February chill. Jacquelyn, who of course had her leather jacket, offered it to both her girlfriends. 

The anger they soon felt was enough to warm them up. 

Trying to keep professional, Jacquelyn told the doorman, “I called this morning, asking about a reservation for Scieszka, and I was told it was booked.” 

“Well, it’s not here now,” the doorman (yes, a man) gruffly replied. He tapped his reservation book for emphasis.

“Is it under Caliban?” Olivia asked, since Jacquelyn had accidentally booked with her girlfriends’ surnames before.

“Or Squalor?” Esmé offered, through gritted teeth. 

“No. It’s not. Now, please leave; we’re booked out tonight.” 

“But we  _ have  _ a booking,” Esmé argued. “For either Scieszka, Caliban or Squalor. Here, give me that book-” 

Her girlfriends dragged her away, willing to give up (or not embarrass themselves).

Since it was still, technically, Jacquelyn’s turn to choose the restaurant, they ended up in the Chevelle, she driving. And hoping what she had up her sleeve would turn things around.

In a part of the City called Little Italy, they arrived once more. This was where, for a few months of her life, Jacquelyn had lived in a VFD apartment - initially by herself, until she met Olivia, and she stayed there during renovations of her own place. Then in what would take quite some explaining, they both fell for Esmé, who invited them to live in the Penthouse. And the rest was history.

It was somewhat fitting, to pass the apartment tonight. As the Chevelle crawled by, Olivia gave her girlfriends gentle smiles. They smiled too, upon realising the apartment was where it all began, and that tonight would be quite different without it.

After a quick stop at Jacquelyn’s favourite eatery in perhaps the world - Pastega’s Pizzeria - they circled around the City, with pizza boxes on the Chevelle’s back seats.

“It’s no Emberance,” Esmé muttered, looking over the seat behind Olivia, in the middle.

“We always order pizza from Pastega’s, babe,” Jacquelyn said. “I know you like it.”

“And perhaps a tip would have sorted out that doorman. We could be dining on In cuisine right now.”

Esmé was  _ trying  _ to not be moody, or upset over losing that Emberance booking. And she did like Pastega pizza enough (though she wouldn’t admit it).

“A tip as in, you would have attacked him?” Olivia asked. “Because you sure looked ready to.”

“He deserved it, for making Jacquelyn feel bad!”

“Please don’t feel bad, sweetheart,” Olivia told her, smoothing a hand down her arm.

“Thanks, babes.”

“Anytime. Pizza will be perfect either way.”

Esmé did want to protest - Olivia, seeing it coming, leaned over the seat and popped a box open. She gave Esmé a pizza slice.

“It’s good, isn’t it, Esmé?”

Perhaps Esmé thought it was wise to nod.

Before long, Jacquelyn revealed their  _ own  _ little surprise to her girlfriends. She had always planned to take them here tonight - just not as early as expected.

It was Olivia who realised where they were headed first. She didn’t say anything, respecting Jacquelyn’s whole surprise at hand. Esmé seemed oblivious, or just preoccupied by the neon lights and signs on City buildings they passed. Olivia was also stroking her thigh.

She only noticed when the Chevelle approached the slight hill to the City’s north-west. And didn’t seem impressed when she asked, “Are we going to Briny Beach at this hour?” 

“Guess again,” Jacquelyn said, and Olivia didn’t give any hints. Leaving Esmé hoping this place was In. 

Now the Chevelle took the winding road up that slight hill, and in the moonlight, the three saw the silhouette of Orion Observatory. Standing tall and alone, overlooking both the City and the Hazy Harbour. Its famous dome - resembling half an eyeball - winked moonlight off its glass as they came closer.

Jacquelyn parked the Chevelle in the parking lot - and it was only then that the three noticed all the lights in the Observatory were off. 

It was honestly  _ stupid  _ not to open the Observatory on Valentine’s Night!

While the Chevelle’s engine ticked after Jacquelyn turned it off - the only sound they heard, aside from a slight breeze - Olivia, Jacquelyn and Esmé studied the Observatory for a moment. All thinking. And starting on the pizza, since now they were all quite hungry.

“How much trouble would you two get into if we broke in?”  Esmé asked, as she picked Out things off her pizza slice.

“A  _ lot _ ?” Jacquelyn offered, mouth full of pizza.

“What if we say  _ I  _ broke in, and you apprehended me?” 

“Esmé, sweetheart, please,” Olivia murmured.

“It’s an idea. I mean, what else are we going to do? Just sit outside on the balcony and look at the City?” 

They did just that. 

One could sneak over the grass and a small rocky area beside the Observatory, and climb over the balcony railing; and instead of looking to the stars, they could look down. The Observatory’s view of the stars was no Hinterlands Secret Spot on any given night - maybe it was just another random VFD message-passing building after all - but tonight, there was nothing but black. Which disappointed Esmé, now she'd finally witnessed the Secret Spot’s beauty.

The City lights ended up spellbinding her anyway.

Jacquelyn  _ had  _ wanted her surprise to work out for the better, but she supposed this was better than the nothing they initially planned.

Olivia didn’t mind. Not because the City lights were pretty, but because, being Olivia, she was just happy to have her girlfriends with her.

After the City lights’ spell wore off her, and she came back at the breeze picking up slightly, Esmé minded. Okay,  _ just  _ a little. This part of her first Valentine’s Day, and Valentine’s Night,  _ could  _ have been much better, but… this was her  _ first  _ Valentine’s Day worth celebrating. And she certainly hoped she would celebrate more, with Olivia and Jacquelyn by her side. 

And as close as they all stood, leaning against the railing, trying to fit beneath a blanket Jacquelyn kept in the Chevelle. 

“I should’ve said to dress a little warmer, sorry,” Jacquelyn said. 

‘’It’s fine, sweetheart,” Olivia said. “We would’ve gotten suspicious immediately.” 

“That’s true. Can I have another chocolate, baby?” 

Handing her another from the box she held, Esmé said, “So much for us not giving extra gifts. I mean, I couldn’t resist, darlings. Not even because this is my first Valentine’s Day.” 

Olivia nodded, understanding. “Me, too. So remember we have chocolate cheesecake waiting at home, sweethearts.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Jacquelyn said, fixing up her leather jacket. “Sorry, baby. I forgot.” 

Olivia kissed her cheek, silently forgiving her. Then Jacquelyn shifted to let her kiss Esmé, too. 

While watching the City beneath them, Olivia, Jacquelyn and Esmé murmured “I love yous”, agreeing that Friday The 14th had been far from a horror movie for them. It had been nothing but perfect. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ending kinda came out chummy and gross but oh well
> 
> this last chapter here was why this piece sat in my drafts for um five months lmao

**Author's Note:**

> yes this *was* meant to be published in February... like around Valentine's Day... but I got stuck on the ending for a bit and editing this fic length-wise (a baby compared to others i've written since) was a Lot to commit to for a while.... so


End file.
